One of Us
by Weshallc
Summary: This was a request from the incredible writer that is Roguesnitch, so no pressure there then. She asked for the scene in the final paragraph but I expanded a bit to add context. Set during Season seven episode one. It goes rather nicely with Bricks and Mortar and although they conflict slightly with To Our Very Dear Friend. Phyllis Crane, Lucille Anderson, Trixie Franklin.


The news that their numbers were no longer to be unconscionably depleted should have been met with much more jubilation than it was, Phyllis admitted to herself following tea. The winter of 1962 coming into 63 was a hard one, no different to any regular January out on the Yorkshire Dales, if truth be told. But Phyllis had learned best not to always pride herself on sticking rigidly to telling the truth where London folk were concerned. Best to be in agreement that they had never had it so bad. To be fair, this lot had lived through the worst of the Blitz and weren't quite as soft as her neighbours had led her to believe as a bairn growing up in Leeds. Assault from the sky, be it Doodlebugs or hailstones, the East End would always keep calm and carry on.

So the addition of a new midwife to their ranks should have been met with a lot more exuberance and she could tell by the brief flicker of disappointment across Sister Julienne's piqued face she had felt it too. Not that Nurse Anderson wasn't welcome, let alone needed. It was just that before Phyllis had been given time to do the maths; the nun had only stated what in all honesty was the blummin' obvious. The new midwife would bunk in with Nurse Crane.

Phyllis had been most disconcerted when her spirits had sunk to the floor, like the mercury in the convent thermometer. It's not that she disliked sharing a room, she had no preference either way. Company was good for easing the mind and the conscience after a taxing day and also for practicing Spanish adverbs. Solitude was often welcome to a tired mind and conscience after a taxing day and also for practicing Spanish adverbs. It wasn't the reluctance to accept a new companion that had unsettled Nurse Crane it was just that one word- new.

Nurse Franklin had a gift few attributed to her, but she possessed it all the same. Phyllis was a very good judge of character, 30 years of nursing had made certain of that, yet she still hadn't quite figured out if Trixie did it by volition or by happy accident. Whichever it was, the young nurse had a way of directing everyone's attention to something more frivolous, something less painful and she did it maybe too often to be an error of judgment. When Sister Julienne reluctantly dished out the medicine, it was often Nurse Franklin who supplied the spoon full of sugar.

Trixie had jumped to Phyllis's defence explaining that the single occupant had just turned Barbara's old bed into a studio couch._ Oh, how daft! For a name to cause such a vacuum in the heart,_ Phyllis admonished herself,_ it is after all just a name_. Bold Nurse Franklin defending the make-over as if Phyllis was Barbara Hepworth and would require a sofa couch to accommodate all the artist's models she needed to sketch or sculpt between her rounds.

The void in Phyllis's soul filled with amusement and appreciation at Trixie's abject horror that her colleague could not possibly survive without a studio couch in a convent bedroom. Phyllis also knew it was Trixie who had decided her old roommate's bed should become a studio couch and transformed it into such a thing. She also remembered a very long Saturday afternoon in Fenwick's looking at suitable fabrics for scatter cushions. Phyllis had never been an advocate of cigarette smoking even when Bette Davis made it look more than an accessory or Philip Morris reassured folk of its health-giving properties. But that day she did envy Valerie just nipping out for a fag, while she again listened to Trixie's rational between her preference for burnt orange over tangerine.

Phyllis transformed the studio couch back into a single bed. It was only when she had completed the reconstruction that she realized why Trixie had persuaded her to make the change. The spare bed was a solid reminder of its last occupant, much more than the chic imposter. Phyllis wasn't sure when Nurse Franklin had exactly arrived at Nonnatus, she had never thought to ask. She knew her years of service among the current midwives to only be surpassed by Shelagh Turner and Sister Julienne. Phyllis presumed it was somewhere in the middle of the last decade judging by her age and confidence, Trixie must have witnessed a fair few comings and goings at Nonnatus, including Nonnatus itself. How many roommates had Trixie out-stayed? Did she feel the loss of Patsy, Sister Mary Cynthia, Mrs Noakes? Maybe there were others? A Jenny was often mentioned. Did the young nurse miss her old friends as much as she missed Barbara? Did she miss Barbara as Phyllis did?

Phyllis saved a golden cushion to adorn the freshly made bed and passed the others on to Trixie and her latest roommate Valerie. The girl's laughter lingered as long as Trixie's Miss Dior as Phyllis returned to her silent room. She would not make the same mistakes again, 3 years ago she had been the newcomer, but it had been Phyllis who had laid down lines of demarcation and imposed rules and regulations. Barbara and her laughed about it now, but that was because Barbara had a forgiving, generous heart. Phyllis still flinched at the memory of her abrupt behaviour on arriving at Nonnatus. She had used temporary contracts to keep a nurse of her experience and knowledge involved in the front line of the NHS. Knowing if she stayed in one place too long she would be pressured into taking a more senior role. Distancing her from the reason she got up and put on her uniform each morning, which was to administer patient care.

Phyllis laid the elements of the signature Nonnatus uniform out on what she kept reminding herself was no longer Barbara's bed. She recalled her own reluctance to accept the uniform that Sister Julienne pointed out would identify her as "one of us". She had returned her agency uniform many years ago and was proud to wear the Nonnatun blue and red. She had chosen a different neckline to the younger nurses, she knew they believed it to be a decision made out of modesty. Phyllis smiled to herself being "one of us" had become so important to her, but there was nothing wrong with being "one of us with a difference". Hopefully, the precisely laid out uniform and the addition of the ornamental gold cushion would reassure the newly qualified midwife she was also "one of us".

It wasn't the easiest of tasks trying to explain to Sergeant Noakes' (in Phyllis' opinion less than satisfactory) replacement that she only had a vague knowledge of the one of us that was missing. The irony was not lost on Nurse Crane that Lucille Anderson was being missed even before she had arrived at Nonnatus.

Lucille was sound asleep when her roommate arrived back after a challenging evening with her palliative care patient Ruth Gelin. Phyllis undressed quietly in the dark, many years of nightwork had resulted in her eyes adapting easily to the lack of light. Val had brought her up to speed with Lucille's eventful journey from Somerset. Phyllis couldn't help but wonder if her new companion's long trip from Jamaica had been as fraught with obstacles as a cross-country journey with British Rail. Failing the morning alarm, Barbara had required one of Phyllis' slippers to rouse her when she first arrived, she decided to show a little more compassion for her new colleague and opted for a gentle shake; after all Lucille hadn't snored all night.

The night Nurse Crane arrived back at Nonnatus after ensuring there was no more she could ever do for Mrs. Gelin, and had done all she possibly could for now for her husband and daughter. She still remembered to turn the bedroom door knob as gently as she could as not to disturb her roommate. Dr Turner had prescribed antibiotics and lemon barley water and Lucille's body had prescribed sleep. Phyllis was surprised to find Nurse Anderson rather than Lucille behind the door, she guessed she hadn't just been trying the uniform on for size either.

Lucille had been reunited with her suitcases. Apart from a squashed Sunday best hat everything appeared to have survived the journey from the West Country, better than Nurse Anderson had. Phyllis wasn't sure if it was the excitement at finally being able to practice some midwifery; Lucille struck Phyllis as the kind of young'un who would want to be of use. Or maybe it was the relief that her belongings had been safely gathered in. It could be just the effects of fatigue from the infection followed by sudden exertion, but the young lass seemed animated and running slightly on adrenaline.

Phyllis lowered her aching body onto her mattress, as pleased as she was to see her young colleague restored to health and reunited with her worldly goods, Phyllis wasn't sure after such a difficult day she was up to being sociable over a piece of fudge, even if it was of the clotted cream variety. All Phyllis wanted was a nice warm bed to rest her aching muscles and stiff joints on and eventually her troubled mind and a heavy heart. Her body had supported others all day, her mind had searched continuously for the right word, her heart had held a shattered family together.

Phyllis would partake in the fudge, the girl's mother would approve. She had just been doing her job as Lucille must have been doing hers too. She probably wanted to tell Phyllis all about her first day. She didn't want to take the shine off her first Poplar birth by burdening the midwife with her own contrasting shift. Phyllis took a deep breath and pasted on as genuine a smile as she could, ready for the onslaught of joy that threatened to overwhelm her from Lucille.

"And I...put a hot water bottle under the eiderdown for you. I thought you might need it coming from a deathbed."

Phyllis pressed down the covers with her hand, the warmth radiating through, soothing her tired fingers that had polished treasured candlesticks as carefully as they had done what was permitted prior to the arrival of the Chevra Kadisha. The warmth in this new friend's actions warmed the old nurse's heart. At last Phyllis could let herself embrace the grief she had kept at arms' length all day and ease the body and mind that had cared for those who had needed her as this relative stranger had now also cared for her. Just like any one of us would do.


End file.
